The Shire and Its Visitor.

The Shire was wet and misty today, and through the mist could be seen myriad flashes of red and gold among a landscape that is still mostly green. We in temperate Europe don’t get the spectacular blaze of colour that is New England’s major boast. We in old England are usually treated to a less robust set of signs to mark the turning of the year. The green fields turn brown, the hedgerows drip, and the lanes become muddy as muck spreading and ploughing activities overflow onto them. Cleaning a car can be seen as either especially necessary or pointless depending on how you look at it.

But we did have a visit from Her Most Esteemed Presence today, or at least her family did since I don’t think there’s anything or anyone else in this little domain to pique her interest. Nevertheless, her visits to the environs of my world are of special significance to me because they leave me feeling light-headed and a little nervous. And only one person – apart from me, that is – knows why.